semicolon
by Wintry Leen
Summary: She hates that he's always there looking at her as if he could see through her soul and all her hidden places. Slight NejiTen. [For World Suicide Prevention Day.] Oneshot. #44


**a/n:** a little late but this one's for World Suicide Prevention Day

Semicolon is such a powerful image to convey the decision to continue despite having the strong desire to just end it with a period.

* * *

 _semicolon_

She's not sure why she keeps coming back here – the place is a picturesque life, and she's that lifeless hue.

The metallic noise of the blaring sounds doesn't tune out the gritting voices in her head though. Her head pounds, and it's not because of the uneven mixture of alcohol scorching down her throat.

Suddenly, she can't breathe, and she downs another liquid whose name she's yet to ask the man serving the drinks.

It definitely tastes better than her tears though.

;

A few stools away from her is a girl crying over the jerk who dumped her, and behind her is a group of youngsters comforting a friend sobbing out her frustration over her exam grade, and there she is who can only hope she knows the reason behind the unprecedented moisture in her eyes whenever she dares to sleep.

;

She thinks she literally should wear a warning label that says "Stay Away" as a blonde girl makes her way over who is suddenly saying the most nonsensical string of words she's ever heard.

"My cousin's checking you out," the girl chirps, and she suddenly feels irritated.

This stranger's too strangely happy.

She continues to swirl the transparent liquid in her cup, reflecting a vague image of herself.

And she's all that. Transparent, vague, and precisely empty.

She finishes it in one quick swig.

She then hears a masculine voice from beside her.

"Excuse us."

She doesn't really give a damn.

;

One day she's surmised that maybe she's just tired. She's a working lady after all, and it's never easy handling a team especially when they admire her too much she doesn't know if she's actually whom they're seeing.

She dismisses the idea that she's tired of life. Because then that'd be a hopeless case.

;

Someone dares approaching her again, and she doesn't know him so she thinks it funny that he begins with, "I always see you here."

She holds back a sardonic smile as she muses whether alcohol could excuse her if she'd greet him back and say, "Can you fix a broken doll then?"

But god, she hates dolls and those manufactured smiles.

And she's breaking, not broken.

She spares him a glance. "That means you're also always here." She shakes her head in mock sympathy. "You're leading a very sad life, young man."

"I'm not young."

"But you're sad."

When he doesn't respond, she knows she's made her point and it's time to go.

;

But then three nights later, she finds herself in the company of the blonde girl whose regal ponytail she'll admit amuses her and that guy she's called a young man and who looks so sad with his stony eyes. They're cousins, they say, and it's weird knowing their names.

Ino. Neji.

Ino chuckles when she gives her name.

Tenten.

It's a cute name, the stranger-turned-acquaintance says. Her buns are cute, too, she adds, to which Tenten reacts by freeing her hair from those childish bands. She hasn't thought much about her hairstyle because it's always been that way, a part of her routine, part of mechanical living.

But if someone's calling it cute then that's not her. _Nothing's_ cute about her. And she thinks if she could only change her name, she also would because now that she hears it being uttered by someone else, she realizes it sounds too much like a doll name.

The sad, young man speaks and calls it beautiful, says it fits her, and she can only glare at him.

"See! I told you he's been checking you out!"

;

At least she now finds a reason to come back here every time.

It's become a habit for them to talk about mundane things. She's not particularly engaged, but she enjoys the company of these two people nonetheless. They're not exactly strangers anymore after all.

But when she gets home, it's all the same. She's not getting any better.

;

She should learn how to lie.

When Ino asks her unexpectedly why she always seems so out of it, it's her instinct which does the talking.

"I'm unhappy."

She realizes she's made a mistake when the girl frowns. "You mean, sad."

Perhaps, she thinks, it would've been less complicated if she lied and proclaimed she's happy but feeling sick.

So she'll lie this time.

"Yes, I am."

"Then I shall cheer you up!"

She can feel her insides scoffing bitterly at her own lie.

;

"Snap out of it, Ten! You're not helping yourself at all!"

Ino's probably got fed up with her, and Tenten won't blame her. She recognizes the girl's efforts to help her. But what she probably needs is saving. Not that she thinks it's necessary.

Ino leaves, and the resulting feeling, she recognizes as sadness.

"I'm sorry about that. I'll talk to her."

She doesn't like that look of pity Neji is giving her. She hates that he's always there looking at her as if he could see through her soul and all her hidden places.

"Aren't you going to tell me the same thing?"

"To counter what you said before, I'm not sad."

She meets his stare then, wanting to know for herself if he's telling the truth. She quickly gives up though. She doesn't even know what she herself feels.

"Congratulations, then," she remarks dryly.

"It's you who are sad."

She feels her eyes burning, and she's had enough alcohol for the week.

"But you're more unhappy than sad," he adds.

She slaps him before dashing out of that sick place.

;

She's glad she's never given them her number. She can live and then die in peace.

;

But her body needs alcohol like water and blood combined so she comes back. She blames her useless feet. They don't know what she means by elsewhere.

Besides, between locking herself up in the room (contemplating between pins and pills) and just going back to the bar to forget, the latter feels like the saner option.

Ino hugs her too tight though, profusely apologizing, and she reiterates to herself she won't blame her because she doesn't know anything and she doesn't need to.

And Neji's throwing irrational questions like "Can I drive you home?"

;

Several nights later, she finds herself on the passenger seat of his sleek car, looking out the window, unsure of what she's heard.

"I like you," he repeats, and she fails to detect any injected humor.

She shrugs. "Well, I hate myself."

She thanks him for driving her home and paints a smile.

"Neji. There's really nothing to like about me."

She might've slammed the car door too hard.

;

But he's rapidly diminishing the boundaries, and she feels lost more than ever.

One night, he reaches out, and she allows him to touch her.

She leans against the warmth of his hand and sheds tears.

"I wish I were normal."

She's neither broken nor fixed, and she can only run from him.

;

That same night, she also tries to run from life itself.

;

She decides to wake up, and she doesn't know why.

Ino's the first to rush to her side, mumbling apologies, although as usual, Tenten doesn't know what she's sorry for.

"Please stop crying, Ino. You'll get ugly," she tries.

Ino laughs despite her tears, and she finds herself doing the same.

The blonde girl then leaves, giving her time to talk to Neji.

"I could've died," she begins, unsure about what to say.

She looks at him. It's weird, she thinks, that she's felt decidedly empty for a long time, and now she feels her heart constricting at the sight of his face. It seems like ages have passed since she last saw him, and she feels ashamed of what she's done.

He takes the seat beside her bed, holding her hand gently.

"But you're still here and that's what matters."

For the first time, she's mustered enough strength to offer him a genuine smile. She retrieves her hand and cups his cheek.

"You have such beautiful eyes, Neji. Someday, someone will look at you the way you look at her. And you'll be happy."

She drops her hand. "Don't wait for me."

"I am happy here."

She shakes her head firmly. "You'll get tired."

"There's Ino to keep us company."

"You'll learn to hate me."

"I'd hate myself."

"Please, don't."

Then he extends his hand and brushes away some stray tears.

"Tenten, I will always look at you. I will look after you. And someday – "

"I'll try to . . . live."

She's not sure if she can, but if she's almost succeeded in dying, then she might as well try to live again.

"Then I'll wait."

It's the first time she's seen him smile, and she feels somewhat better.

"Okay."

;

 **...**

 ** _Fin._**

 _Please know that I tried my very best to be as realistic as possible in this piece. If you happen to feel it's a tad bit romanticized, then I apologize. That was never intentional. It could've been because of the dialogues which I utilized to effect subtlety or probably because of the presence of incipient romance. But I had to signify that there's hope, love, and friendship amidst the dark. I didn't want to end it in a dismal note because it would've defeated the purpose of publishing it here._

A lot of plot bunnies are jumping around inside my head but this one I've got to pursue because it hits close to home. I know I said it's for World Suicide Prevention Day but actually, every day should be a suicide prevention day. I'm all for fighting the stigma against suicide and depression so I'm not censoring my story.

I once attempted to do what society deems unforgivable – taking your own life. But I did because I don't believe that suicide is not an option. Suicide is ALWAYS an option. Stop invalidating our feelings. You don't know how it feels. And I pray you won't.

While I survived the attempt, I cannot say that I've stopped killing myself in my head. It's not something I can snap out of when it has become a means of survival for me; it's given me this sense of reassurance that despite everything, I am still the one in control of myself.

But I feel better sometimes. And maybe that's why I still choose to live. It's because I still have a chance to feel better. I just have to wait. That's why even when suicide is always an option, I can say that it may not be the best one to choose. I'm not sure about the other options. I don't even know if there's a best option but it's probably not suicide because I'm here now and I think I'm okay and even when I know that I might have a relapse one of these days, I also know that someday I'll feel better again. And maybe it's enough to live for that reason.


End file.
